


The Dog Park

by ladyofreylo



Series: Sackler [7]
Category: Girls (TV), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, Brief Discussion of Rape, COVID, Coronavirus, Dark fic, Developing Relationship, Dog Poop, Dogs, Fame, Famous, Happy Ending, Love Story, No Pregnancy, No Smut, POV First Person, Quarantine, Romance, brief discussion of noncon, first person POV, women are not safe outside alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:15:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24912196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofreylo/pseuds/ladyofreylo
Summary: Rey meets a handsome stranger walking his doggie in the dog park near her apartment.  Both he and she are masked to be safe in these uncertain times, so she has no idea who he is.  He prefers to remain anonymous--until a sudden thunderstorm scares their dogs and the stranger's identity is revealed.He peeled off his mask and set it on the counter.  His glasses and hat followed.  He pulled out the man bun and dark waves drifted down over his ears.  He sported a goatee and mustache surrounding full lips.  His face was long and peppered with a familiar constellation of moles, and his nose was bold and prominent—and completely recognizable.  His eyes were wary.
Relationships: Rey (Star Wars)/Adam Sackler, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Sackler [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1741783
Comments: 10
Kudos: 58





	The Dog Park

**Author's Note:**

> Rey ponders the wisdom of walking alone--even though she has her dog with her. She also finds herself thinking about being in a stranger's apartment drinking wine and what she faces as a woman alone meeting strangers in the big city. Just be aware of those discussions.
> 
> Thanks to jgoose13 for the beta read as always.
> 
> Oh, and that's my real doggie, Bo, and I love his masked face.

This is the new normal. Masked people walking around everywhere in this huge city. Including me, trying to walk my big-ass puppy in the heat with a mask on. Many people were tempted to shed their masks outside due to the sticky summer weather. I kept mine on and let the breeze fluttering through the dog park trees cool me.

I had my poop bag at the ready and Bo, my giant pit mix, on a leash. He was basically walking me because he’s a 90-pound monster. He dragged me along, snuffling and snorting, peeing on every living thing. He got interested in where another dog had just peed, picked up the scent, and followed.

The dog in question walked next to a tall man in long cargo shorts, Jordans, and a t-shirt, with a baseball cap, sunglasses, and mask. Bo raced up next to the dark brown animal and started trying to sniff him. The other dog turned, as did his master.

“Sorry,” I said, voice muffled by the mask. “My apologies.” I tried to pull Bo away, but he was quite a bit larger than I, and he was reluctant to leave.

I’m not a good dog parent, so Bo was not very well trained.

The tall man said, “No problem. Marvin. Sit.” His dog sat. He then knelt and patted Bo. He looked up at me. “What’s this big guy’s name?”

My big crazy dog loved the attention and licked the man’s hand.

“Bo,” I said. “He’s really friendly but not too smart. He hasn’t learned commands. Or I’m not very good at teaching.”

“He’s a big dog. They can be hard to manage sometimes.” The man rubbed Bo’s ears and Bo responded with more licks.

“Yours is Marvin?”

“Yeah, that’s Marvin. He’s a Staffie Rottweiler mix.”

“Bo is a Pit I-don’t-know-what mix.”

He huffed a low laugh under his mask and stood up. “Nice to meet you, Bo. And Bo’s mom.”

“Nice to meet you, Marvin and Dad.” I smiled, though he couldn’t see me.

<>

I saw Marvin and his dad walking again on another extra hot day. I just had to get Bo outside for a while, even though the temperature was close to 90 degrees. He was starting to click around my apartment, pacing like he needed to run. We had been out and about for a while, so I decided to perch on a cool stone bench for a few minutes. I carried a collapsible bowl and a couple of chilled water bottles, as usual. I poured some water for Bo and watched him lap it up.

I saw Marvin heading toward me walking sedately next to the tall man. I waved and he held up a large hand. “Hi,” he called. “Bo and Bo’s mom.”

“Marvin’s dad, how are you? Share some water?” I cracked open another bottle and poured it into the bowl. “Bo’s okay with sharing.”

Bo sniffed Marvin and Marvin returned the favor. “Leave it,” Marvin’s dad said in a low voice.

I nudged Bo’s big hindquarters over toward me. The man sat with me while Marvin drank. He spoke to Bo and petted him.

“He is such a beautiful dog,” he remarked. “He’s taller than Marvin. Wonder what he’s mixed with.”

“No idea,” I said. “I got him as a puppy. A friend of a friend found him in a field out of town and thought he was a rat.”

The man laughed. “How old was he when he was found?” He looked at me through his sunglasses.

“Six weeks. Had a belly full of worms and a bunch of other stuff wrong with him. And now we have this.” I patted Bo’s square head.

“Marvin was at a shelter. No one wanted him, they told me, because he was bred to fight. They said he was a Rottie mix, which could be dangerous.”

“Yeah, I heard that, too. People are afraid of Bo-Bo because he’s a pitbull, but he is a good doggie.”

“So is Marvin.” He paused.

“It’s how you raise…” I started.

“…them. Not the breed.” He finished my statement. “I was just going to say that myself.”

A small breeze picked up.

“Oh, that’s nice,” the man said. “Finally. So hot out here. I didn’t really want to bring Marve out today.”

“Not a lot of people out right now.” I looked around. “We may have picked the hottest part of the day to do this.”

“Yes. We did. I wasn’t thinking about that when I decided to take him for a walk.” He surveyed the park. “But Marve and I like it when it’s not so crowded.”

“Same for me,” I said. “And Bo. He’s a big guy and I have trouble walking him sometimes.”

The man checked out my small frame. “He walks you.”

“Indeed he does.”

“I got some help training old Marve-Man here. He walks well beside me now.” The man absently petted him. “If you want, I can take Bo and you can walk Marvin.” Then he paused. “Okay, that’s probably not something you want to do with a stranger. Sorry. Never mind.”

“Are you a dognapper?”

“No, I’m just suspicious and paranoid.”

“I’m not, but probably should be.”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t let random men talk to you in dog parks, for sure. In fact, you shouldn’t be walking alone in a dog park.”

I laughed out loud. “I literally have a ninety-pound pitbull with me. What the hell? If you mess with me, Bo will turn you into hamburger.”

He laughed as well. “Point taken. But still… be careful, okay? Lots of crazies out there.” He patted Bo’s head again. “I should go. Nice seeing you, Bo’s mom.”

“My name’s Rey,” I said. “I’d shake your hand but…”

“No, yeah,” he held his hands up. “I get it. I’m, uh, Doug.” He put his elbow up. “Bump?”

I elbow bumped him. “Nice to meet you, Doug.” I petted Marvin, who gave me licks, too. Bo butted his nose in. “Jealous doofus,” I said.

Doug called to Marvin and said goodbye.

<>

The next time I saw Doug and Marvin, they were walking up behind me at the entrance to the park. Doug was calling my name through his mask. I turned to wave and wait for them, but Bo had other ideas. He almost knocked me down by twining his leash around my legs and taking off toward Marvin.

“Oh, shit,” I said.

“Drop the leash,” Doug called. “I’ll get him.”

I did. He caught Bo’s leash and petted him. “Come on, Bo, Marve, let’s walk.” He had both leashes and walked up to me.

“I can take Marvin if you want me to.”

“Sure.” He handed me Marvin’s leash.

We shouldn’t have been touching each other’s dog leashes, but I decided not to say anything. I could sanitize later.

We walked quietly. Doug concentrated on slowing Bo down and petting him every time he did something well. He talked softly to him.

“You act like a dog whisperer,” I said, watching him.

“Dog lover, not so much whisperer. I learned a lot from Marvin’s trainer. If I had treats, I’d give them to Bo while we were walking. I’ll bring some next time.” He looked at me. “If that’s okay.”

I shrugged. “Sure, or I can pack some myself. I thought of water but not treats.”

“You bring the water and I’ll bring the treats.”

“Deal,” I said. “Elbow bump?”

We elbow bumped.

The dogs did their thing almost at the same time. I cleaned up Marvin’s poop while Doug got Bo’s. We tossed the bags in the park’s poop containers. I held the leash under my arm and pulled a small bottle of hand sanitizer out of my bag. We shared it.

“Nothing like picking up dog shit to keep you humble,” Doug commented while rubbing his big hands together. I noted he had no wedding ring on—nor was there any indentation.

“Seriously. That’s why I like conscientious dog owners. We can’t be pretentious and pick up poop.” I paused. “Or that’s the theory, anyway.”

He nodded. I saw his face crinkle up in a smile under his mask.

We sat on a bench to let the dogs drink the water I brought.

The weather was ridiculous and here we both were out in the hottest part of the day--again.

Doug took off his hat for a moment and pulled a bandanna out of his pocket. He wiped sweat off his forehead. He tucked his long hair, half-up in a man-bun, behind large ears that stuck out on either side of his head. I wondered if they stuck out more because of his mask—or if those were just his ears.

“Whew,” he said. “The mask makes it all worse.”

“I agree. It keeps the heat in.” I swiped my forehead with a paper towel. “I suppose it’s not that dangerous to take them off out here.”

“Yeah, I would, but we’re not six feet apart on this bench.”

“Right,” I said. “I’ll move away.”

“No, that’s all right,” he said. “I should keep it on.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

He fanned himself with his hat. “Do you and Bo live near here?”

“We live just about a block and a half. And you?”

“Yeah, about that.” He didn’t offer more information. “This is the closest dog park to me. I have a space for quick outings, but Marvin loves the walk and so do I.”

“Are you laid off right now or working from home?”

He shot me a look and put his hat back on. “Laid off. I could do some work from home, but I’ve been taking a vacation for now. And you?”

“Working from home.”

He nodded slowly and he looked around the park. The conversation died out, but I felt comfortable petting Marvin, who lay at my feet, and watching Doug rub Bo’s ears. Bo had his head on Doug’s leg.

“Walk some more?” he asked.

And we made another loop around the park.

At the entrance, Doug handed me Bo’s leash. “Can you come tomorrow, same time? I’ll bring some treats and help you with Bo.”

“Sure,” I said. “But we have to make it a half-hour later. I’m teaching until two.”

“Really?” He stopped. “A teacher?”

“I teach online college classes.” Bo tried to wind himself around my legs. “I have to keep walking, Doug.”

“All right.” He held out a hand. “I can take Bo again.”

“Marvin?”

“No, I got both,” he said. “You can enjoy the walk. Marve and I can walk you two home. If that’s okay.”

I hitched up my bag. “Sure. But only if you’re not an axe murderer.”

He looked at me with what must have been a smirk. “I have never murdered an axe in my life.”

“Good to know,” I said. I shook my head and laughed out loud.

I could tell he was smiling behind his mask.

When we got to my building, Doug handed me Bo’s leash, wished me good day, and walked on with Marvin. I watched him walk away for a minute. Something about that walk was familiar but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Probably just remembering seeing him walk around the park.

<>

I saw Doug walking toward the park the next day at our appointed time. He walked a bit pigeon-toed on one side—with a long stride. Not only did his walk seem familiar, but something about the way he held himself also caught my attention. I swore I had seen him somewhere before outside of the dog park.

Doug and I had both brought treats. He showed me how to work with Bo a bit and my sweet pup responded well, if slowly, to the prompts. Bo turned his pretty brown masked face up to look at me with a doggie smile. I loved my sweet boy so very much that I kissed his bony old head and got a big face lick. Bo didn’t like my mask so much, so I dropped it for a moment and let him give me dog kisses without it. I turned to Doug and smiled at him.

He stood still for a moment, staring at me. I saw him looking. I had forgotten, as I always did, that I’m pretty. Most men thought so. The mask hid it during quarantine, and I really liked not being stared or whistled at.

Not that being pretty was a huge burden. I realized that a lot of women—and most likely some men—would love to change places with me. They want to be more attractive than they think they are. I wasn’t blind to that reality nor ungrateful for being blessed with good looks.

I felt stupid for even caring one way or another. But sometimes the leers, winks, and nods made my life difficult. I had to be twice as smart to be taken seriously. I had to cover my body to be safe. I had to wear frumpy clothes to teach. I wore makeup sometimes and other times I chose to downplay being attractive to literally be heard.

I felt extra stupid for complaining. It was a gift to be pretty, to be slim, and attractive—to have high tits, flat belly, and a small waist. To have sexy legs and a round bottom that men liked. To have silky hair, pretty lips, and a small frame that made even the shortest man feel masculine.

But, in that instant, I saw Doug see me. I liked it. I liked being looked at by men, except… when I felt afraid. Except when one reached out and grabbed me and another locked me in a room with him and another asked me to do dirty things to him…

I understood what Doug was saying about meeting a strange man at the dog park. I didn’t feel threatened specifically by him, but there had been times when I hadn’t felt safe walking in a park or talking to a man. Doug’s look signaled a shift, a new awareness, in this nascent relationship.

I put my mask back on. He gazed at me through sunglasses, and I couldn’t read his expression.

He cleared his throat.

Thunder boomed out of nowhere, scaring the shit out of me and the dogs.

Doug raised his eyes to the sky. “Fuck, I didn’t realize we were going to get a storm.”

The clouds were roiling in, looking darker and more menacing with each moment.

“We better get home,” I said.

The air crackled and my hair blew in my face. Doug reached out a hand. “Leash?” He took Bo-Bo from me. Both dogs paced, twirling around Doug’s long legs.

“They’re going to trip you,” I said.

“I’m fine.” He untangled himself and started walking.

The wind picked up and the thunder boomed again, extra loud.

“Follow me. I’m going to walk fast to get these dogs out of this noise.” He picked up his pace and strode down the sidewalk. I jogged to keep up but soon lagged behind. I was struck again by his stride. His legs were encased in black jeans; they were long and slim but clearly muscular—he moved with power and determination. That walk was so familiar, especially the firm, deliberate pace, a slight hitch toward the center with one big foot. I still couldn’t place where I had seen the stride before.

At the corner, he turned and walked a half-block to the entrance of a large, long building. He went to the door, which a doorman opened. 

“In here.” Doug motioned me inside. I followed at a trot.

We entered into a lobby with a big security desk and cameras. 

“It’s all right,” Doug called to the people behind the desk. “We have to get out of this weather.” He turned to me. “Come on.” He swiped a card on the elevator and spoke to both dogs. Bo followed Doug and Marvin like he’d been there before. 

I got on the elevator with them. “Are you sure?”

He took his glasses off. “I don’t know what else to do. If this isn’t all right with you, we can take the elevator back down and I’ll walk you home.” His eyes were a light whiskey brown, almost hazel. Unusual.

“COVID?”

He pulled his hat off, showing his thick hair still in the half-up bun. “I know. But… I don’t have it. I don’t go many places other than the dog park.”

“Neither do I.”

The elevator dinged and opened. Doug shooed the dogs out and walked down a hallway. He opened the door with the card like it was a hotel room. This was no ordinary apartment—no ordinary security system. I had no idea what was going on, but this man, the set-up, was not the norm—at least not in my world.

He let me in and dropped the leashes. Bo followed Marvin down a short hallway, dragging leashes behind them.

“Come on in,” he said.

I walked into an opulent city apartment with a huge island and state-of-the-art galley kitchen, sunken seating area, big picture windows looking out over an amazing cityscape, an impressive dining area with a laptop and papers spread out over a huge polished oak table. Back behind the dining area was a viewing space with a big TV screen and another seating area designed for watching films. Bedrooms were probably further down.

I’m afraid I gaped at the entire set-up. I pulled off my mask and dropped my bag beside a bar stool tucked under a massive marble island.

“Holy shit.” That was all I could think to say. “You’re laid off?”

“Um, in a manner of speaking.” He peeled off his mask and set it on the counter. His glasses and hat followed. He pulled out the man bun and dark waves drifted down over his ears. He sported a goatee and mustache surrounding full lips. His face was long and peppered with a familiar constellation of moles, and his nose was bold and prominent—and completely recognizable. His eyes were wary. 

I stared at him. Then I stared some more. He watched me silently.

Then he said, “Do you know me?”

I nodded. “Yes. Adam Sackler.” It was indeed the film star standing in front of me. I was in shock that my new friend Doug had disappeared.

Bo came looking for me, and Marvin wandered up to Adam. I petted Bo absently.

“Douglas is my middle name,” he said. He knelt to take leashes off each dog.

“Is that what people call you?” I asked faintly.

“No, but I use it if I need to. Would you like a drink?” Adam walked around the marble island and stood looking at me. I think he was giving me time to adjust.

“Uh,” I said. 

He gave me a half smile. “I shouldn’t have brought you up here.”

“No, it’s okay. Bo and Marvin needed to get out of the thunder.” We could still hear it in the background and both dogs were restless.

Adam went to the huge refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of white wine. He retrieved two glasses from the cupboard. Then he found a corkscrew and opened the bottle. I stood petting Bo and wondering how I had gone down this rabbit hole. My palms were sweaty and my mouth felt dry. I could feel my face flush and I ruthlessly tamped down any extra giggly animation I might exhibit—because that’s what I did when I got nervous in front of men.

Adam handed me a glass of wine. “Would you like to sit down and talk?”

I followed him to the seating area and sat on the couch. Bo marched over and stared at me with his amber doggie eyes. His presence helped me calm down.

“Hi, fella,” I murmured at him, rubbing his soft ears and receiving doggie licks. “We’re just visiting here.” I took a sip of wine. “Thanks for taking us in.”

Adam swirled his wine. “I didn’t mean to lie to you. It’s just…”

“Nope, I get it.” I cut him off. “This quarantine must be a great opportunity for you to go around incognito.”

He grinned. “Yeah, I’ve been enjoying it. Some people still recognize me, though.”

“Your walk,” I said, suddenly.

Adam stared. “Is that it?”

“Yeah,” I said. “It’s distinctive.”

His lips turned down for a second as he considered my statement. “I thought it was because I’m so tall. Anyway, I got someone I know to say they saw me upstate. On Instagram, he posted a photo of me with the owner of a restaurant.”

I had to laugh—it was pretty clever. I hadn’t seen that photo, but I didn’t follow Adam on Insta. “Really? And why the hell are you in the city? I’d imagine you’d rather be upstate.”

He shrugged. “I was upstate at first. I got bored. Everything’s on hold and there’s only so much solitude I can take before… I like to work.”

I completely understood. “So back to city life where you can walk around more or less in plain sight.”

He smiled into his wine glass, then toasted me. “More or less. Though it is kind of a stupid move to be here where the virus is most concentrated.”

I understood, though. If Adam was alone out in a country house, the isolation might be too intense. The risk would be worth it, at least in his mind. His fans might not agree.

The thunder roared again. The dogs quivered at our feet and rain lashed at the windows. 

Adam looked outside at the rain beating down. “Too bad it’s not Fall. I’d light a fire.”

“It’s, like, 85 degrees outside.” I pointed out the window. “And humid as hell.”

He held up a hand. “Yeah, I know. I don’t want to freak out the air-conditioning system. But…”

I shook my head at him. “You should just barbecue instead. Isn’t that a man thing?”

“I can’t barbecue in the rain, Rey.” He grinned at me. “In fact, I don’t know much about barbecuing at all.”

His smile was incredible—a lot more dazzling in person than on screen. I sucked in a breath and couldn’t speak for a moment. 

I said the first thing that came into my brain. “They’re going to take away your man card.”

He raised his eyebrows. “My man card? I have a man card?”

“All men do.”

He started to laugh.

“No? I thought you got one when you turned eighteen.”

He slapped his thigh and laughed some more. “If I had been a man at eighteen, maybe…”

“Okay, so no man card.”

His smile remained in place as he looked at me. “Maybe I missed it.”

“Best check on that,” I said.

I watched him for a moment. This Adam Sackler was nothing like the jittery person I’d seen in interviews. He would tap and vibrate, shift around, and then get really focused and intense when answering questions. His answers sometimes wandered but were peppered with aphorisms, about love and hurt and pessimism. He had an energy about him that interviewers either liked or disliked. No in-between.

Though not jittery, Adam clearly liked movement and activity. He could sit and talk but he seemed more comfortable doing something. He got up and topped off our glasses of wine, then offered to make dinner. I stepped over Bo’s prone body to help with prep. The two dogs followed us and lay on the floor by the big island, just outside the kitchen. 

I couldn’t believe that I was chatting and cooking with this man. We chopped veggies for omelets, which he created and plated with a flourish, adding a sprinkle of parsley on top as a garnish. I called it fancy and he smiled at me. He poured glasses of water to go alongside the wine.

We sat together at the island and ate. I commented on how well the omelet turned out—and I meant it.

He swallowed a drink of water. “I can make other dishes, but I like omelets the best.”

“Get all the food groups in one.”

“If I’m not watching my weight, I add ham or bacon. Just enough for flavor.” He stopped with his fork in the air. “Yeah, should have done that.”

“Veggie’s fine for me,” I said.

We chatted easily together throughout dinner. I made no comments on his past roles or his fame. Nothing. We talked about being quarantined and daily life, boredom, movies in general, books we were reading. Cooking, dogs, favorite restaurants we wished were still open. How weird it was to talk to people online or by Facetime. He told me nothing specific about his life—nothing about projects, friends, family, nothing that I could potentially tell a gossip publication. He was nice but guarded. I suspect if I had fangirled or mentioned anything specific or asked him any questions, he would have completely shut down. So, I didn’t.

He noticed. He was not a stupid man by any means.

I tried to help clean up and he shooed me out of the kitchen. “Relax. I got this.”

“Adam, really,” I said. “You don’t have to clean up after me. Besides, I should go. It’s not thundering anymore.”

He stopped cleaning up. “Yeah.” He wiped his hands. “I guess that’s a good idea.” He looked at me. “But…” He paused and touched my arm. “You did great.”

I raised a brow. “How so?”

“Not too many people can handle being around someone like me, if they’re not prepared. Sometimes even if they are…”

I made no comment, even though he glanced at me. I waited for him to collect his thoughts.

“Interviewers, fans, others—they want to ask a lot of questions. Some want an inside scoop. Some want a story to tell others or post to their social media. Some want a piece of me.”

I just shrugged. “I didn’t know who you were at first. I don’t give a flying fuck about it now. I mean, it was a shock. Yeah. But I prefer to consider you the person I met in the dog park.”

“Thanks.”

“Not that I didn’t have fucking heart palpitations… Because I totally did.”

He shook his head. “I’m so sorry. I never meant for you… I just wanted to hang out at the dog park and be normal.”

“Well, I guess you can kiss that goodbye.”

“Maybe,” he said. “Though your restraint is admirable. No questions, no comments. My career was just completely gone. I have no idea what you do or don’t know about me. Or what you think. Or what, if any, movies you’ve seen.”

I thought about that for a moment. “Yep.” I smiled at him. “Gotta go.”

He eyed me and put two fingers to his lips. “All right. I’ll walk you out.”

I called Bo over. He stood up and ambled inside the kitchen. He sat his butt down on the kitchen tiles and made a loud noise. A dog fart.

“Jesus Christ,” I said.

Adam started laughing. He slapped his hand on the marble countertop. “Oh, Bo. You said it all.”

“Oh my God, dog. We need to leave.” I picked up Bo’s leash and my bag. 

Adam reached out to take the leash. “Let me take fart dog out,” he said.

I handed it over. “Better you than me. Bo, you’re a menace.”

We rode the elevator downstairs and walked through the lobby to the door. I retrieved Bo’s leash.

“Thanks for dinner. Maybe I’ll see you at the park again sometime.”

Adam smiled and looked me in the eye. “Thanks for the good company. I’m sure I will see you there. Elbow bump?”

I elbow bumped him and left.

<>

I took Bo to the dog park a couple of times after that but didn’t run into Adam. I figured he’d gotten spooked, which was fine. I missed talking to him while walking around, but I had other friends, a job, and a dude I talked to virtually sometimes. I wasn’t looking for anything from anyone.

I saw him from afar one day, walking Marvin, but I didn’t try to follow or speak to him. If he saw me, fine, if not, I was okay. He didn’t see me and left before I finished the loop with Bo. He might be avoiding me, and I respected that.

Then one day Adam strolled in, with hat, glasses, and mask firmly in place and Marvin on a leash. I saw him look around and waited for him to find me.

I nodded at him. He said hello and petted Bo. I let Marvin sniff and lick my hand. I gave his head a friendly rub.

“How have you been, Rey?” He looked down at me.

“I’ve been fine. And yourself?”

“All right. I, uh, got busy and had meetings, you know, when I usually bring Marvin to walk.”

We walked in silence for a moment. “I understand,” I said.

More silence. 

I’m the kind of person who sometimes jumps in and sometimes waits, depending on the situation. I felt down to my bones that this person needed me to wait. And, honestly, I had so little stake in maintaining a relationship beyond a casual meeting that bringing up any larger, deeper issues seemed moot. He may have thought the same—I didn’t wish to speculate. Well, that’s a lie. I did wish to speculate. I was dying to know. I wanted to pry his big old head open and look inside. But I didn’t. I didn’t want this casual relationship—or whatever it was—to die an ugly death. Just let it drift, that was my motto and I was sticking to it.

“Well,” Adam said, looking down at me. “I want to know. No, I don’t want to know. But I do want to know.”

I walked on. “No, you don’t want to know.”

Bo decided to poop, and Marvin followed suit. We waited and then picked up the poop. I offered Adam some hand sanitizer and he and I rubbed our hands. Bo didn’t want to wait for me, so Adam grabbed his leash and gave him a soft command, followed by a treat.

Then we walked. “Somehow that seems like a metaphor for this whole business,” he said, pushing his glasses further up on his nose.

“What? That it’s all gone to shit because you invited me over and revealed your secret identity?”

He burst out laughing. “Yeah, that’s it exactly.”

I rolled my eyes. “Shut up and walk. Really, it’s not that deep.”

He looked over at me. “What?”

“Please, I’m not going to doxx you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Well,” he said. “It did cross my mind.”

“I’m sure it did,” I said. “But I’m not that kind of person.”

We walked in silence for a bit.

“I’d like to hear everything.” He stopped at our favorite stone bench.

I dug out the bowl and the water. The doggies drank and we sat side by side.

“What does ‘hear everything’ mean to you?” I asked. “I’m not sure what that entails.”

“I don’t know either.” He looked around. The wind ruffled the leaves in the nearby trees. Sounds of the city in the summer drifted into the park.

“Let’s walk some more,” I suggested.

The dogs were ready to resume their walk after I picked up the bowl and water and stuffed them into my bag again.

Adam took Bo and worked with him on commands. Then we headed back to the dog park entrance. When we got there, he said he’d walk us home. He took Marvin again and the two dogs walked together.

We stopped at my building and Adam handed me Bo’s leash. “I still want to hear everything sometime,” he said.

I looked at him. “Sure. You tell me. I’m not reaching out to you because…” I paused. “I don’t know how to explain why. I guess because you don’t know me…”

He pulled his mask down and smiled. “We’ve reversed positions.”

I frowned at him. “How?”

“I was trying to be so careful at first, trying to warn you about talking to strangers but hoping you still wanted to talk to me.” He shook his head. “Now you’re doing it. Being so careful. ‘See, Adam, I’m not a crazy fan.’ Fuck.” He waved his hand in the air to denote craziness.

“I’m not.” I shrugged at him. “I don’t know what else to say. I’m completely willing to walk away, and we never have to meet again at the park or anywhere else.”

He was shaking his head while I talked. “Yeah… That’s no good. Why would I want that?”

“To ensure your privacy and safety.”

He rubbed a thumb over his lips. “Got it.”

“Maybe you could bring a bodyguard with you in case I turn out to be a nut.”

He gave me an incredulous look. “Girl, I believe I can take you if you attack me. You’re tiny.”

“I could have a weapon.”

“Are you serious?” He started laughing at me outright. “I can disarm you easily. You’re small and…”

“Strong,” I added. “Don’t underestimate me, Mr. Sackler.

He leaned down and looked in my eyes. “Never would I ever.”

The dogs started winding around us, and Marvin almost knocked Adam down. He picked up his feet to step over the leash. “Shit,” he said. “I have to take this dog home.”

“All right,” I said. “See you later.”

“Hey, find a time to talk to me. I want to know.”

“You so don’t.” I waved goodbye as I walked inside.

<>

My intercom rang. I wasn’t expecting anyone, but sometimes the mail carrier buzzed me with packages. It was Adam. His voice was muffled by his mask, but he asked if he could come in for a moment.

I buzzed him in and held the door open. Bo wandered up and poked his big doggie nose out into the hallway. He must have heard Adam because his tail started wagging.

Adam pulled his glasses and mask off and greeted Bo with ear rubs. I asked him inside.

“I wasn’t sure if you were teaching or not.” He glanced curiously around my small one-bedroom space. 

“I’m teaching but they’re in a group discussion right now,” I said. “I have a minute.” I turned my laptop around. Someone pinged me. “Hang on.” I opened my mic. “What can I do for you?”

“Uh, professor, do we need a title page?”

“No,” I said. “MLA style doesn’t require one. Do you know where to find the template?”

“I didn’t see it.”

I copied the link from Google docs and pasted it into the chat section. “Sending you the link.”

“Thanks, professor.”

“Sure,” I said and cut my mic off. “Now what can I do for you?”

He looked impressed. “Professor?”

I snorted. “Everyone is called ‘professor.’ It’s just a title.”

“I see.” He still looked impressed, maybe a bit taken aback. “Would you like to come by for dinner again after our walk? Early dinner like we did before?”

“Sure,” I said. “With Bo?”

“Yeah. We can walk to my place after we take the dogs out.”

“Sounds good to me,” I said.

Adam hesitated. “You can talk about anything you want.”

I raised my eyebrows at him. “I highly doubt that.”

He paused, surprised by my answer. “What does that mean?”

“What’s your opinion of the last _Galactic Battles_ movie? The one where they kill you off,” I asked smartly. Then I smiled at his stunned expression.

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Don’t your students need something?”

“See, what’d I tell ya?” I waved my hand at him.

He pressed his lips together. “Fine. _You_ can talk about anything you like.” He pointed a finger at me. “ _You_. Not me.”

“Do I have to sign an NDA?”

“No, because I’m not telling you shit about me.”

“You don’t tell anyone shit.”

“Absolutely right,” he said. Then he reached out and took my hands in his. “What time are you done with your class?”

“Two,” I said, looking down at his big paws. He gave my fingers a quick squeeze and let my hands go.

“I’ll come back and pick you up.” He headed for the door.

My computer pinged again.

“See ya, professor,” Adam said.

<>

We sat on the couch in Adam’s apartment watching the sunset after dinner, dogs at our feet. I took a sip of wine. He’d been watching me but not saying a word.

I caught him looking again. “This whole secret identity thing seems to be weighing on you. What would you like to know?”

Adam leaned forward to place his glass on the coffee table. “You recognized me. What do you know about me? Who am I?”

It wasn’t a completely ridiculous question. He was asking if I was a fangirl. I had to tread carefully here so as not to spook the shit out of him. That is, if I wanted to continue our friendship. I sensed he didn’t have a lot of acquaintances outside of the film and theatre industry. He didn’t trust anyone.

“I know you were in _Galactic Battles_. I know you’ve done a lot of different movies because last year in November and December your face was all over Prime and Netflix. I follow Jim Jerene as director, and I was so excited to see _This Is Just To Say_ because it’s an homage to William Carlos Williams. I love his poetry, so I definitely watched that.” I paused, trying to decide what else to say. 

Adam rested his forearms on his knees. “Just spit it out, Rey. I need to know everything.”

I shot a glance at him. “Fine. I follow other directors, like Ray Lee and Noah Baum, so I watched many of their films, including ones you were in.”

He gazed at me. “That’s it?”

“No,” I said. I took a breath. “I also really like Terry Grisoni’s movies, so I watched _Twenty-Five Years._ I binge-watched _Not_ _Women_ because critics raved about your performance, and I thought I should check it out.”

“You saw almost everything, then.” He sat back, looking slightly shocked.

“Yeah, not on purpose, exactly. I like the directors or the stories, and somehow you’ve been in a lot of stuff I wanted to see.”

“Okay. What about _Lonnie Luck? Hunger?_ ”

“No, only the ones I mentioned.”

He digested that statement. “And now? Did you look me up on Google after we met?”

I looked him in the eye. “Of course.”

He nodded slowly. “Thought so.”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, I would.”

I stared at him. “And you did. You had me checked out? To see if I posted weird shit about you on my socials?”

He pressed his lips together for a moment. His eye contact never wavered as he gave one small nod. “Had to. My security team needs to protect me. I took a huge risk bringing you here and exposing myself. It was stupid. And not just because of COVID.”

“You said yourself you could disarm me or whatever if I tried to hurt you.”

He repositioned himself on the sectional and reached for his wine glass. “It’s not about that. I’m not concerned about physical violence…”

“Maybe you should be,” I said. “I saw people trying to hand you things.”

“Yes, and security stops them, unless I’m signing something and handing it back. Even that is strictly regulated.”

“Got it.” I had read that he had trouble sometimes with over-reaching fans.

“It’s not that people try to hurt me. The opposite. They want to touch me and, in so doing, violate my personal space—without meaning to, perhaps.” He looked down at Marvin. “I feel like a dog that’s getting too many pats at once. It feels…” He scrunched up his face. “Odd. I don’t know how to describe it.”

I watched him think and said nothing.

“All too much. Too many people pulling at me, vying for attention. Wanting something from me, while, at the same time, pouring out adulation.”

“Creeps you out?”

Adam snorted. “Yes.” He took a breath. “It’s strange. The whole thing starts with a statement about how much they liked, enjoyed, or loved the movie. I’m okay with that. You know, like, ‘thanks very much, I loved your performance.’”

“Not embarrassing?”

He raked a hand through his hair. “Yes and no. I’m not immune to enjoying praise, though I don’t always feel that I deserve it. It can be overwhelming. And praise may or may not be related to my performance.” He glanced up at me. “I don’t know why…” He laughed. “Feel like an asshole here…”

I nodded at him. “I get it. Some people see you as a …” I sure didn’t want to say it. So I waved my hands around… “You know.”

“I know. It’s crazy and so uncomfortable. I like sex as much as the next guy, but it’s private, you know?” I knew that Adam Sackler had cultivated an air of casual, alpha-male sexuality and his films were peppered with nudity and sex scenes. I saw no evidence of that persona in our conversation. It was curious.

“I get it,” I said. “And it’s weird because it feels like you’re not being taken seriously. Like, you’re over here trying to do something important and people are checking out your…” I waved my hand again at his body.

He shifted uncomfortably and scratched his nose. “Yeah. And again I feel like an asshole talking about it because I don’t think of myself that way.”

“I can see that...”

He sucked in a breath. “It’s like you’re trying to teach something important and your students are focused on what your hair looks like that day. Then they come up after class and start to say something about your lesson. You thank them. Then the comments are about how great a professor you are in all classes. That’s fine. But then they want to ask questions that you don’t want to answer about your life outside teaching. And then they start, uh, maybe gushing is too strong, but something like that…gushing about your hair or clothes or body—unrelated to teaching or the subject matter.” He paused. “Sorry, I’m monologuing here.”

I shrugged. “It’s all right with me. I understand. I can see how at first you don’t mind. Maybe even enjoy the praise. How could you not? It’s nice to hear that you did a good job at whatever. But it’s a slippery slope down the rabbit hole of _have sex with me_.”

We sat in silence.

I thought of something else. “People are nervous. They don’t know how to act and then they may feel stupid later for what they said. They embarrass themselves accidentally due to nerves. I’ve done it myself.”

“I know, so have I. And there are some who have no filter and don’t know the rules for those situations. That used to be me—for a long time. I get it and bless them for trying.”

“I’ve read a lot of your co-star Leia Organa’s books and she describes different meet and greets at the _Battles_ conventions. Her stories are painful and raw. I read them and then to, I don’t know, add to the pain—because I’m just that crazy—I listened to her book on Audible.” I put my head in my hands for a second. “Those stories… God. I cringed for her and the people she was talking about. But she also believed most fans were sincere and trying to connect with something important to them, something larger than went beyond her as a person.”

He pressed his lips together. “I haven’t…. I couldn’t.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I didn’t…. It’s just something I thought of.” I looked down.

He leaned over and touched my arm. “I’m not upset that you brought up the topic.” I looked up into his face. “I got to know Leia a little on set and in publicity. I was shocked by her death—she had a dog that I…” He stopped for a minute and breathed. “I held her dog, Baby, and played with him. He was amazing. You know, I never thought to read Leia’s descriptions of fandom. It’s a hard subject to think about.”

“And here I am, making you deal with it.”

He laughed. “Yeah, just what I want to do for fun while in quarantine.”

“I should go, then, so I don’t creep you out more.”

He set his glass down. “If you want to leave, that’s fine, but you don’t have to. You’re not creeping me out.”

I nodded at him—a little wary. I kept feeling like I was saying the wrong things.

Adam took my hand for a minute and squeezed it. “No, you’ve been very restrained in our conversation. I mean, if you were a fan who was going to gush over me, I would never know it from our discussion.”

“Thanks.” I decided not to take the hint. Obviously, I either restrained my gushing or there was no gushing to be had. Either way, I won—and he didn’t have to know.

“Another glass of wine?” He got up and went over to the refrigerator.

“Maybe, but I have to walk home with a dog.”

He retrieved the bottle and came back to the seating area. He poured a little more in both our glasses. “I’ll walk you home.”

“You’re just enjoying the hell out of being anonymous in a mask.”

He grinned and took the bottle back to the kitchen. “Yes.” He wandered back to the couch and flopped down. “Another question.”

“Shoot.” I took a sip of the chilled wine. 

I wondered if he was getting me drunk. Maybe I was the one in danger. There had been no whispers of scandal online, nothing when I searched him. No complaints, all rosy and glowy reports—other than a few mentions of his intense focus on a set and not being especially huggy or chatty with most of his co-stars.

Still, if he came at me, would I be okay with it—or would it be noncon? I really didn’t know. I guess it would depend.

I tried to imagine a scenario in which he would come at me, and I wouldn’t like it. No, I’d let him kiss me—I wouldn’t mind it at all. He was incredibly sexy, and I would consent to sleep with him. 

I stared at him and thought of the manic version of Adam Sackler that I had seen giving interviews. He was really nothing like that person at all. He didn’t seem the type to pressure a woman into bed—but maybe no one seemed the type until they were.

He stared back at me. “Did you want to say something?”

“No…” But I hesitated.

“Go ahead.”

“I was thinking about the whole _Me, Too_ movement and women who have been affected, myself included. I’m thinking about how I’m in a situation with you that could go badly very quickly if you were a…” I didn’t want to say it.

He looked directly at me. “Right. I see that. You’re in my home drinking and I could overpower you easily and…”

“Take whatever you want?”

He smiled slightly at my feeble _Battles_ joke. It was one of his most famous lines. “Yeah. I’m not that guy. I wouldn’t do that. Not that you know me well enough to know that.” He sighed. “Of course, you might have a…” He struggled for a word. “…perception of my personality, based on interviews and videos. Look, as a younger guy, I made bad choices, but not these days. Not ever.”

“And a lot of men who have power and privilege do believe they can take whatever they want, that they are immune to consequences.”

“And often they are.”

“We are both vulnerable,” I said. “Who is more vulnerable, in your opinion?”

“You are. In a crowd situation, I am.” Then he paused. “No, you’re still more vulnerable. Always.”

“And there you have it. I can doxx you or stalk you or shitpost about you or fantasize, I suppose, about you. But when it comes down to it, you have protection that I don’t. Unless someone comes at you with a firearm.”

He shook his head. “I have training and security. It would be difficult to get to me.”

“So do a lot of famous people who were shot.”

“Thanks for pointing that out and adding to my paranoid nightmares.” He toasted me.

“You’re welcome,” I said. “Sorry about that. I find myself worried about you.”

“You and me both. And my security team.”

“But you had a question earlier,” I said. “What was it?”

“Right. It was about your response to finding out. What was it like? How did you feel? What changed?”

“When I recognized you?”

“Yes.”

I thought back.

He jumped in again. “I saw the look on your face. The dawning realization. The gulp. I saw you thinking back to all the things you’d said and did, wondering if any of it was… bad or embarrassing, somehow.”

He was correct. “Yes, and the shift in reality, like one last piece of a puzzle sliding into place. I felt stupid, like I should have known, and I did wonder if I said something idiotic. I was anxious, like I would make a mistake in front of you. Like I would be too animated or too much for you. I would laugh too loud or… some other stupid thing would happen that would embarrass me.”

He shrugged. “Like your dog farting? We survived that, didn’t we?”

I laughed out loud. “Yeah, like that. And, yeah, we survived.”

“No big deal, right?”

“I suppose not. Of course, it could have been worse.”

He grinned at me. “It can always be worse.”

“Let’s not go there,” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose.

He cleared his throat. “Anyway. I saw you clamp down, kind of bite it all back, and a calm … mask, for lack of a better term, moved over your features. You acted like it was no big deal. Was it?”

I wondered what to say and opened my mouth. Nothing came out. “Uh, yes and no. Yes, because as I said I got super nervous. You aren’t just some guy from the dog park. But, you know what? I get up in front of students every day of the week and run classes. I run new classes with new students every fourteen weeks. I’m not shy and I know how to deal with many situations. I’m used to masking when I need to. Students might say something weird and I have to roll with it.”

“What did you do to mask it?” He was really interested in the process—to make sense of it all.

I stared off into space to ponder it for a few. “I thought, this is the same guy who’s been helping me with Bo. He’s just a dude with a different job—one I didn’t expect. The reality shifted—with knowing who you were—then I forced it back to what was familiar.” I laughed. “Then I went home and fucking freaked out.”

He laughed. “So did I.” He rubbed his forehead. “God.”

“What’s the point of all this? I thought you might want to stop our walks and disappear. It seemed most logical.”

“I did that for a bit to see if you would reach out—or follow me.”

“Tactics.”

“Again, I’m sorry, but…” He shrugged. “I have to be careful. Security wanted me to cut off contact.”

“You decided I was not a threat?”

He grinned. “At least not that I can tell. I don’t allow many people inside my orbit if I don’t know them already—or if they aren’t in the theatre or film world.”

“I understand,” I said.

“Well, then.” He stuck out a giant paw. “We can be friends.” I took it and shook his hand.

And that, I realized, was the point of all this conversation. I was being vetted.

<>

I decided to leave soon after, and we talked about meeting again at the dog park. His phone rang before I walked out. He asked the caller to wait.

“I can see myself out,” I said, softly.

He put the phone down and walked me to the door. “See you soon,” he said. He bent down and kissed my cheek quickly, a soft brush of his lips. A little shiver slipped down my back. He smiled and whispered a goodbye. 

Marvin tried to go with Bo. “No, Marves,” I said.

Adam called to him and with another quick wave, shut the door.

<>

We walked every day. It became an easy routine. Meet, chit-chat about my classes or other non-threatening topics, switch dogs, scoop poop, sit on the bench, and chit-chat more. Walk home.

Adam didn’t invite me to dinner. I didn’t invite him, either. I knew I probably owed him dinner, but I wasn’t going to do it. For reasons.

He sat with me one day on our cool stone bench and sighed. “I have to ask you another question or two.”

“Ones you would prefer not to ask.” I really was being assessed.

“Maybe.”

“Do it. I’m open.” I turned to him. “I’m a lot more comfortable now. I hope you are, too.”

Adam nodded. “Yeah.” People walked by. He tucked his head down. It seemed like the dog park was getting more crowded every day. “Fuck. How recognizable am I right now?”

“Not that much,” I said. “Is that your question?”

“No, I just wondered. How much did recognize me when we walked together.”

I stopped him with a hand on his arm. “I couldn’t place you—you’re out of context. And I just blew it off. But if people know you live around here, they could guess.”

He nodded at me. “Got it. The more crowded the park, the more likely someone is to recognize me. I’ve been banking on people being too scared or busy to walk their dogs at this time.”

“Yeah, it seems like people are coming out a lot more.”

He looked around the park, sneaking peeks and ducking his head. “Might have to change the walk time.”

“Okay,” I said. “If you still want company…” At his look, I trailed off. “Yes?”

“Do I look like I don’t want company?”

“No. But…”

“No more eggshells,” he said through gritted teeth. “Just be you, okay?”

“All righty,” I said. I could try—sometimes I forgot he was famous.

“I’ve got questions. Here’s one. Did you see my play on Broadway last year?”

I didn’t expect that. I stared at him and he gazed back at me. Was it a trick question? I was tired of eggshells, too. “Just say it. Don’t couch things in mysterious terms,” I said.

“Are you a fan? Did you get an autograph from me in the rope line? Did you really just happen to see all those movies, or did you watch them because you were following my career? Do you post pictures of me on the internet?”

“Like a teenager drooling over a movie star?” I was taken aback by the barrage of questions.

“Please tell me the truth, Rey. Please.”

“I’m not a drooling teenager, Adam. For shit’s sake. I don’t post pictures of you on socials to fangirl. I don’t look at pictures of you at all. Well, I did after we met but that’s because…. Never mind. Before I met you, I wanted to see movies with you in them because I was interested in your film choices and performances—and the directors. I told you that.”

“You didn’t say you were interested in my performances. Just the directors.” He pulled his sunglasses down to give me a level stare. “Is that all? Seems like there’s more.”

“Quit grilling me, Adam. I’m being cautious, so sue me. What do you want from me? I follow other people’s careers as well. Don’t you?”

“I don’t get crushes…”

“Neither do I. And I bet that’s bullshit. Weren’t you all up in Scorsese’s business when you got to work with him?”

He looked away, out at the trees. “No.”

I gave him a narrow-eyed look. “I don’t believe you. You were dying to work with him, according to interviews.”

“Ha.” He pointed a finger at me. “And that’s where we differ. You get to read interviews about me. My life is out there for you and others to watch and digest.”

“Let’s walk,” I groaned.

“I told you I was paranoid and suspicious.”

I shot him a withering look.

“Hey,” he said suddenly. “Want to see a play online?”

I was a bit startled by the change of subject. “On Zoom?”

“Yeah, live on Zoom.”

“Do you know how to work Zoom?” I teased.

He pulled his sunglasses down to glare at me yet again. “Not funny.”

“Yeah, it is.” I kept walking. “Come to my house, and we’ll Zoom it on the college’s fancy-shit laptop. I have a majorly fast connection.”

<>

Adam showed up at my door at the appointed time with Marvin. They both came in and wandered around. Marvin and Bo greeted each other and settled down together. Adam continued to wander.

I set him to work, making salads. I glared at him occasionally.

He eyed me. “What?”

“Mr. Paranoid and Suspicious. I need to know what all that shit at the park was about. Even though you never want to reveal any of your secrets, you bug the hell out of me, asking a billion questions.”

He huffed a laugh and hunched over the veggies he was slicing. “Sorry. On a scale of one to ten…”

I groaned.

“What? Do you think it’s going to be bad?” Adam glanced at me and went back to his chopping.

“Always.” I poured a dollop of olive oil in a pan to sauté some chicken breasts. I checked the simmering rice.

“Fuck. On a scale of one to ten with one being the lowest and ten being the highest, where do you rank in fandom?”

“What kind of fandom?” I topped off our wine glasses and took a sip.

“My fandom,” he answered, reaching for his own glass.

“How much of a fan am I? Now or before I met you?”

He toasted me and took a quick sip. “I don’t want the current number. I’m afraid you aren’t a fan of me now at all.”

I snorted and plunked chicken breasts into the sizzling oil. “Why the fuck are you fishing?” I turned around to confront him.

“Inquiring minds.” He tore lettuce into the salad bowl. He wouldn’t look at me.

Adam Sackler had just crossed the line. He bothered me enough to annoy me, and I was done with him and his infernal questions. Either he liked me or he didn’t. Either he trusted me or not.

I took a big sip of wine and turned away from the stove. Fuck it. He was going to hear it. 

“Here’s the deal. I watched _Battles Seven_ and _Eight_ late—not when they first came out. I was a _Battles_ fan, like everyone else in the damn world, but I was wary of new characters and new plots. I dated a guy who was a big fan and he asked me to watch them. So, your helmet comes off and I go, oh fucking shit, who the fuck is that? My boyfriend tells me who you are. I watch the movies thinking that your acting is much superior to the old stuff. And, frankly, you’re exactly my type. The guy watching the fucking movies was tall, dark, and handsome—just like you. You’re fucking hot and I wanted to see everything you ever made so I could watch your performances and stare at your ass.”

He held up his hands. “Whoa, whoa. Okay.”

“If I’m making you uncomfortable, sorry. You fucking asked. Yes, I saw your Broadway play _Dance This_ or _Dance_ _That_ or whatever it’s called, and I didn’t stand at the stage door because I felt like a goddamn idiot. Then I spent the next year thinking I _was_ a goddamn idiot for _not_ doing it. Honestly, it’s not my style to do that sort of thing. I don’t want to have a ten second droolfest for a piece of paper with a name on it—or a generic encounter with some fucking actor with wet hair. I just don’t. I did however wait in line overnight for tickets to _The Live Show_ just to fucking see you do ridiculous sketches in bad wigs. Am I good? Can I stop now?”

He had stopped chopping. “Do I need this knife for protection?”

“Shut up,” I said. I poked at the chicken. “Satisfied, Adam Sackler?” I mumbled about bugging the shit out of people, while I stood there feeling like the biggest dumbass in the universe. I’d really tried so hard to play it cool and he’d pissed me off enough to lose my shit.

Bo started dreaming and huffed small woofs in his dream. He paddled his feet and snuffled. I looked over and then glanced at Adam. He laughed. “That dog is noisy. Bo-Bo, wake up, stop snoring.” Bo raised his head for a second to look at Adam with bleary eyes. Then he snorted and went back to sleep.

“Fucking hell.” I felt tired and stupid. I poked at the chicken.

I felt Adam behind me suddenly. “Hey, it’s all right.” He put his hands on my shoulders.

“I hate losing my shit. I hate it.”

He reached out a long arm and shut off the burner. He turned me around and pulled me close to him. His chin rested on my head.

“Can’t have that shit unsaid between us,” he murmured. “I had to know.”

“Why?”

“How are we going to do this if we have secrets?”

I looked up at him. “You have a billion secrets. You just made me spill mine. And what are we doing?”

“Going out… I guess. Or whatever you want to call it. Being a couple, maybe, if it all works.”

I stared at him. “Are we a couple?”

He looked at me. “Would you like to be?”

“As in dating…”

He nodded. “I just had to know if I was dealing with you being a fan or not. That’s why I kept asking. If we date, I need to know how much of a fantasy is going on in your head. Can I be real? What do you expect?”

“Does it help that I find you real annoying?”

He pressed his lips together and bit back a smile. “Yes, it does. I’m very annoying at times. I’m glad you noticed. I’m just a guy with a dog and a weird career. I would prefer to be anonymous, but I don’t have that choice.”

I put my hands on his arms. “I’m not fangirling. Maybe I was earlier. I don’t know. You pick up my dog’s poop. It’s all good.”

He bent down and kissed my lips quickly. I put my arms around his neck. “Finish cooking and let’s eat.”

<>

After dinner, we sat on the couch together and watched a live stream of the play _Oedipus Rex_ , starring Poe Dameron, Adam’s colleague from _Battles_. Adam put one long arm around me, and I cuddled up close to him, tucking my legs up under me. The dogs came and slumped near the couch.

He talked about the company that sponsored the play and told me tidbits about some of the actors before the thing started.

It was an amazing performance, even though the actors were all in separate locations. The performances were compelling without costumes and props. 

We logged off Zoom before the Q&A session started. Instead, Adam pulled out his phone and made a call.

“Hey,” he said. “Saw it. It was great. Can I Facetime you?”

He pulled up a live picture of Poe Dameron wiping his face clean of Oedipus makeup and grinning. “Glad you liked it. You’re up next, my friend. Brian wants you to do one.” Poe’s eyes shifted to me.

Adam introduced me. “My girlfriend, Rey Johnson.”

“Hi,” I said. “Loved the show. I’ve taught that play before and didn’t have a good performance to show students. Hope you guys will have video available sometime.”

Poe smiled and gave a cheery wave. “A teacher, huh? That’s great. You should ask Brian about it. He might be willing.”

Adam gave my waist a squeeze. “Tell Brian I’m on vacation. I’ll check in with him another time. See you later. Great job.”

I waved goodbye. Then I turned to Adam. “Did I pass that test, too?”

“Yep,” he said. “With flying colors, professor.” 

He tugged me close for a soft kiss, placing a hand on my neck and rubbing his thumb along my lower lip. When he carried me to the bedroom, our two goofy dogs followed and plopped themselves down on the floor by my bed. 

Adam lay down next to me and whispered, “We have an unwanted audience of canines.”

“Perverts,” I muttered.

He grinned. “Nah, that’s me.”

“Show me,” I whispered in his ear.

<>

As the quarantine restrictions slowly lifted in the next few weeks, we decided to drag ourselves out of bed early and hit the dog park before anyone else got there. The dogs figured out the change in plan quickly, and Adam became subject to what I called Bo’s doggie alarm clock. It consisted of a big slurp on any available skin surface, be it foot, knee, hand, or face. Why he chose to lick Adam was beyond me, but I had to laugh every time Adam shot straight up in bed with a jerk.

“Damn dog,” he mumbled. He flopped back down amid my giggles and groaned.

Marvin quickly learned to follow suit and Adam was toast.

Now when we walked together, we held hands and felt free to discuss upcoming plans—for when he would go back to work and how I might be able to go with him if my classes were still online.

We strolled along in easy silence, me walking my sweet doggie, Marvin-Man, and Adam leading Bo, his favorite alarm clock.


End file.
